


kiss & tell

by thevault



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Hair-pulling, M/M, Masturbation, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:22:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevault/pseuds/thevault
Summary: “Can I suck your cock?”Steve comes back into focus so fucking fast it’s almost dizzying, and he tries to ignore the way his cock fills out even more just hearing those words.  He can’t even be quite sure he heard them right, because those words certainly don’t make any goddamn sense coming out of Billy Hargrove’s slutty fucking mouth.“What?”
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 10
Kudos: 168





	kiss & tell

**Author's Note:**

> long time no see!! so, this story has absolutely no context, i have no idea where they are or why, i just got this idea, wrote it in one sitting, and decided to post it because i know that i'll probably never come back to it to make it make sense lol. so this just some straight up porn for you guys, hope you enjoy!!
> 
> unbeta'd, y'all.

Billy’s been staring at him for a long time, those too-blue eyes a little unfocused from all the crossfading they’ve been doing. It’s a good look on him, that hazy mix of drunk and high. Billy’s cheeks are a little flushed-- well, actually, more than a little. The longer he stares the deeper it gets, spreading out over the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones. Right along the smattering of freckles that Steve’s caught himself counting on more than one occasion.

Steve’s own staring keeps him distracted enough for him to miss the way Billy’s eyes dipped south, dragging slow and heavy like molasses down Steve’s body. Steve’s much more transfixed with the way Billy bites his lip, the edge of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips like he just can’t help himself. His lips are licked moist, shiny under the soft yellow glow of the cabin light Steve had flicked on as soon as Billy had cut the headlights.

It’s a look that gets Steve fidgeting in his seat, and for a confusing moment Steve realizes he’s kind of turned on. Kind of a little hard, too, judging by the way the crotch of his jeans feels a size too small. He flushes with the realization and immediately blames it on his lack of a love life, because that part is absolutely _true_. He’s young and horny and hasn’t gotten laid in, like, six months. Inappropriate boners are bound to happen.

It’s absolutely got _nothing_ to do with Billy.

“Can I suck your cock?”

Steve comes back into focus so fucking fast it’s almost dizzying, and he tries to ignore the way his cock fills out even more just hearing those words. He can’t even be quite sure he heard them right, because those words certainly don’t make any goddamn sense coming out of Billy Hargrove’s slutty fucking mouth.

“What?” Steve croaks, throat dry from cigarettes and the weed and the awful cottonmouth Steve always gets when he smokes. He wants to take a sip of his bear, quench his thirst a little, but he’s too frozen in place by the weight of the question hanging in the air.

For once in his life, Billy actually looks kind of nervous. His confident smirk is gone, eyes a little wide and almost fearful as he swallows thickly around his own dry tongue. Billy actually has the sense to take a big gulp of the half-crushed can of Red Stripe in his hand, and he tosses the empty down at Steve’s feet once he’s finished. Steve knows he’s stalling once he wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand in a dramatic fashion and reaches for another beer before he repeats himself.

Any hesitance is gone with the crack of Billy’s can opening, and it’s no surprise that Billy almost looks a little mean when he grins at Steve and leans a little closer.

“Let me suck your cock, Harrington. Don’t worry, I don’t kiss and tell.”

Steve’s pretty sure he’s going to pass out from the lack of blood flow to his brain as it all rushes south, leaving him lightheaded and panting. This time he does chug his beer even though he’s got more than half of it left, thankful to just have something to preoccupy him while he tries to sort out what the fuck he just heard. Unfortunately, the beer only spares him a few extra seconds, and by the time he’s done he still got no idea what he’s going to say.

Billy’s still inching closer, practically leaning over the center console now to get into Steve’s space. The shift must be digging into his stomach.

 _”Come on,”_ Billy’s voice is low now, deep and sultry and barely above a whisper. _“Just close your eyes and pretend I’m a girl.”_

And Steve’s considering it. Like, legitimately considering letting Billy Hargrove get his filthy mouth on his dick. Because it wouldn’t be _hard_ , pretending that Billy was a girl. He’s got long hair like one and big, plush-looking lips to boot.

This was the longest dry spell of Steve’s life, alright? Cut him some slack.

“Are you fucking with me?” Because when Billy Hargrove says he’s going to do something for you, Steve’s learned you _always_ have to ask that question. Steve licks his lips and grabs for another Red Stripe, placing his empty in one of the open slots instead of throwing his trash on the floor like a heathen.

“Nope.” Billy pops the ‘p’ with a giddy little laugh like he already knows Steve is gonna say yes.

There’s a lot of questions Steve wants to ask but he doesn’t ask any of them, too afraid he’ll ruin the moment by thinking too hard. He wants this, and for some reason, Billy does too, and that’s all that really matters. So Steve drops his beer in the cup holder and Billy watches with delighted eyes, looking like a kid on Christmas.

“Okay,” Steve says simply enough, even reaches down to squeeze his dick through his jeans to relieve some of the pressure. He’s completely hard now, the hot line of his cock trapped against his thigh. Billy watches him do it, too, a big grin splitting his face as he leans back into his own seat.

“Get in the back,” Billy instructs with a hard edge to his voice that gives Steve goosebumps, has him crawling into the back seat over the center console so fast he fumbles a little and has to catch himself with his hand pressed flat against the back seat. Billy laughs, loud and maniacal as he slaps Steve hard on the ass. The sting of it has Steve choking on a gasp and a bit of pre oozing from the tip of his cock, leaving behind a damp spot in his briefs.

He continues his climb to the back trying to seem as unaffected as possible, although he’s sure it shows on his face when he falls into the back seat properly and looks up at Billy expectantly. Steve can feel the heat in his cheeks but he holds Billy’s gaze, legs spread wide to show off the bulge in his jeans, an invitation.

Billy licks his lips like he’s hungry for it and reaches under the passenger seat to slide it all the way forward on its track, and Steve wordlessly scoots over from the middle to the right. Then Billy’s climbing in the back with the grace of a lion hunting its prey, his poorly buttoned shirt hanging loose enough to expose every inch of him, pendant glittering where it hangs from his neck.

Steve stares, eyes trained on the hard line of Billy’s abdominals and the golden tan to his skin. He’s too turned on to think about why he likes it so much, seeing Billy’s body. He seems bigger than ever, seems that way every time Steve sees him, like the guy doesn’t skip a single day. Steve thinks he should feel admiration or jealousy, but all he wants to do is lick him.

As soon as Billy’s between his legs Steve’s carding his fingers through his hair and tipping his head back against the headrest, eyes closed and mouth ajar with anticipation. Billy’s quiet as he works Steve’s pants open with little preamble, sparing a few warm kisses to the head of Steve’s cock through his jeans before he’s reaching inside to pull Steve free.

He can’t help the relieved sigh he lets out at the sensation, cock twitching in Billy’s grip aggressively like he’s some overexcited virgin. Steve can’t see him with his eyes closed, but it feels like Billy’s just _staring_ , watching Steve twitch and thrust up into his unmoving hand even though he’s hardly done anything. Steve can feel how wet the head already is, can feel it dripping down the underside of his cock and probably over Billy’s knuckles. That thought has his dick pulsing, and even though Steve’s always been wetter than most guys, even he thinks this is a little ridiculous.

Billy’s fist is unmistakably that of a man’s when it drags up the length of Steve’s cock, but it drags a desperate moan out of Steve’s lips anyway. He bucks his hips up to follow it, toes curling with the rough drag of calluses and the tight grip Billy has on him as he strokes back down. It’s mind-numbing how much better this feels than his own hand, even better than a girl’s. Billy’s hands are bigger, stronger, and they know what they’re doing, squeezing the head of Steve’s cock on the upstroke, teasing the slit with his thumb on the way down.

Steve isn’t thinking of a girl at all when Billy finally wraps his lips around the head, warm and wet and _good_.

After everything Billy has put him through, Steve doesn’t even feel a little bad when he bucks his hips once again and gags Billy on his cock, throat constricting around the head gloriously as Steve forces his way in. Steve moans louder than he needs to, caught up in the intensity of the moment and the pure ecstasy running through his veins.

Steve moans just as loud when Billy grabs onto his hips with a powerful grip, forcing his hips back down against the leather seat and holding him there with a strength Steve couldn’t even hope to fight against. Steve tries not to think too hard why he likes that so much, being pinned and helpless, knowing Billy is fully in control of this situation. He just lets it wash over him, pulls at Billy’s hair a little just to feel his nails dig into the meat of his hips.

It’s a little unbelievable how good Billy is at this as he starts to bob his head, always applying a soft suction, tongue wrapped around any part of Steve’s cock he can reach. Steve’s not even worried about teeth, not when Billy has arguably the _definition_ of cock sucking lips. It’s wet and messy and Steve’s pretty sure he’s not going to last long at all, mouth hanging open on gasps for breath and salacious moans. Steve thinks it should be gross how much Billy is slurping and gagging on his cock like a whore, but it’s not. It’s really fucking not.

Without thinking, Steve lifts his head and looks down to where Billy is working his magic, at the hard evidence that there isn’t a pretty blond girl between his legs, but it’s pretty damn close; Billy is easily the prettiest boy Steve has ever seen. It doesn’t freak him out like it should, doesn’t make him go soft and shove Billy away like this was a mistake. What it does make him do, though, is make him tense up with the effort not to come, because Billy Hardgrove with dick in his mouth is the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

 _”Holy shit,”_ Steve murmurs, voice trembling as he watches the slick glide of Billy’s lips swallowing him down, down, down before he pops back up. Obscene is what Steve would call it, because Billy’s lips are cherry red from the abuse and it wasn’t until now that Steve realized Billy had let go of his left hip so he could shove his hand into his open fly and jerk himself off.

The sound Steve makes is completely undignified, a pathetic whine that has Billy dragging his gaze up in a dramatic fan of his eyelashes that makes Steve’s heart beat a little funny. Once they make eye contact Steve’s letting out another unabashed moan, knees squeezing tight around Billy’s shoulders as he leaks pre onto his tongue. Billy moans at the taste, the first sound he’s made since he got on his knees, and it’s got Steve desperately trying to buck against the iron grip Billy still manages to hold, even with just one hand pinning Steve down.

 _”Close,”_ Steve whimpers, fingers curling tighter in Billy’s hair with his building orgasm. Billy just works harder, spit and precum making a damp spot where Steve’s jeans and underwear are pulled down just enough for his cock to poke through. Steve notices Billy’s started jerking himself off faster, like he’s close, too, which only makes Steve want to see what Billy looks like when he comes.

As if Billy read his mind, his back goes taut as he starts moaning around Steve’s cock, loud despite the length stuffing him full. For a few seconds, Billy’s hand pumps as fast as it can go, and then he’s forcing himself down onto Steve’s cock until every last inch is buried deep in his throat, exhaling harsh breaths through his nose as a wet spot forms on the front of his jeans. Steve can see his knuckles through his jeans where he squeezes every last drop of his orgasm from the head of his cock, hips twitching from the pleasure.

Steve only feels a little bad when his eyes roll back and he chokes on a moan as he spills down Billy’s throat, and now with Billy’s grip lax from his own orgasm, Steve can fuck his cock up into Billy’s throat impossibly deeper. Billy gags with it, shoulders heaving and tears wetting his eyelashes as Steve completely ruins him, gasping and shaking the whole way through.

When Steve finally relents, Billy pulls off with a gasp like he’d been held underwater too long, and then it’s his turn to tremble as he coughs and presses his forehead against Steve’s denim-clad thigh. Steve doesn’t remove his hands from Billy’s hair just yet, relaxing his grip to gently massage Billy's scalp in all the places he must have hurt him.

A few moments pass where they both just breathe, panting into the cloudy cabin of the Camaro as they come down from their highs, eyes closed and bodies lax. Billy’s the first to move, peeling himself away from Steve so he can zip his fly and button his jeans. Steve blinks back into awareness in that hazy, post-orgasm way, a soft smile on his lips just because he feels so damn good right now. He watches Billy wipe his mouth clean on the back of his sleeve and climb into the front like nothing had even happened, leaving Steve with his soft dick hanging out of his fly and a frown on his lips.

Billy doesn’t look back at him once, just fixes his hair in the rearview mirror and lights a cigarette until Steve is forced to put himself away and climb up front, too. Steve clears his throat like he wants to say something, because he _does_ , but then Billy starts the car and shuts the light off above the dash with such finality that Steve knows he should probably keep his mouth shut.

When they pull into his driveway a few minutes later, Billy doesn’t look at him when he mumbles, “tell anyone and I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” His voice is hoarse, no doubt from choking on cock, which takes away a bit of the bite in his tone, but Steve has no doubt Billy would actually kill him if he said anything. He’s almost done it one before, so it’s not like Steve is gonna tempt fate.

Plus, there’s enough damning evidence against Steve here, too. It would be a joke to say he was imagining a girl in Billy’s place like they’d said.

Steve just nods before he climbs out of the Camaro and speed-walks to his front door, hands stuffed in his pockets until he has to wrench one free to unlock the door. He heads straight upstairs as he hears Billy peel out of his driveway dramatically, sheds his clothes on his way to the bathroom where he takes a long shower, teasing himself to another orgasm with Billy on his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on Twitter!!! @dopplegangbangs


End file.
